


what's holding you down is nothing but your anguish to fall

by allmadeofstardust



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, First Meetings, Friendship, Gen, Hallucinations, Insanity, Pre-Canon, Self-Loathing Caleb Widogast
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:48:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28060416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allmadeofstardust/pseuds/allmadeofstardust
Summary: He was keenly aware of the passage of time.  That’s what made his time in that prison cell so miserable.  He could count every second of every minute of every hour that faded in and out of his consciousness, and it was driving him insane.Well.  More insane than he’d been before.An interpretation of how Caleb met Nott for the first time.
Relationships: Nott | Veth Brenatto & Caleb Widogast
Comments: 2
Kudos: 49





	what's holding you down is nothing but your anguish to fall

**Author's Note:**

> this fic is 110% inspired by this lovely animatic - please go give it a watch!!!!!: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JyOy1mjxW0Y&ab_channel=SagaBlomberg

He was hungry.

Why was he hungry? He didn’t deserve to be. He deserved to waste away, didn’t he? But that’s not why he was here, not why he wandered these streets. He  _ wanted _ to live. Needed to, because how else would he make things right? Bring down those he hated, reset the past. He knew what he wanted, and it was to live, if only for the smallest of notions of burning Trent Ikithon where he  _ stood _ and - 

Caleb caught himself in the middle of the thought, distracted, before the heat in his mind could formulate into actuality in his palms.

_ Later. You’ll have your chance later. _

Right now he was hungry.

The feeling was unfair in his body, wrapping an unfeeling hand around his stomach and squeezing. The hunger persisted mercilessly, throughout the day, and the evening, and the following day, and the following evening. It grew and grew until there was no room left in his head except for food, of any type, any shape.

He had wandered the market district in circles, scoping out the shops, the butchers, the bakeries, and right now all he could focus on was the freshly baked bread being put on display outside a shop situated on an offshoot of the main thoroughfare. It was out of the way. Away from prying eyes. He could do this.

_ He could do this. _

Far away in the back of his ruined mind, he remembered lavish dinners at the Academy, luxury foods and imported wine. Astrid would laugh at one of Eodwulf’s jokes, raising a toast to him. Caleb would pull apart the tender steak on his plate, and at the head of the table, Master Ikithon would - 

Someone collided with Caleb’s shoulder as they passed, muttering a haughty apology as he was thrown against the brick wall behind him. The movement jarred him out of his reverie, drawn back into reality only by the scent of the bread wafting down the street.

He just needed to survive.

_ He just needed to survive. _

He focused on his goals, on the hatred and spite that was all that kept him going these days, and guided his way slowly towards the bakery.

He raised his hand, inspecting the bread, and waited until the owner’s back was turned. He grabbed the biggest loaf he could find and turned sharply, trying to melt into the crowd.

He thought he had it. He had made disappearing such a specialty of his.

But then there was a shout of protest, a cry.  _ Thief, thief! _

Caleb ran.

He wasn’t quick enough.

Physical exertion had never been his strong suit, and even if it had, the guards were outfitted with more training and a better familiarity with the streets around him.

He got about two blocks away -  _ nothing _ , he could still smell the damn place behind him - before the first hand grabbed his shoulder. Another grabbed his middle, tripping him, and Caleb watched the bread go spilling out of his hands onto the ground, gathering dirt and manure as two guards dragged him upright, barking orders. He kept his eyes on the bread as they brought out the manacles. He watched a passing horse stamp firmly down on it, tearing it to shreds.

_ Worthless. Just like you. _

Caleb went limp in the guards’ hands.

They pulled him roughly to the local prison - an old and crumbling building that didn’t have many cells, but that didn’t matter to them.

Caleb was staring straight ahead, oblivious to the movements around him. Someone was talking to someone, but gods knew he couldn’t understand any of it. He just replayed that scene of the bread being destroyed in front of him. Over and over, until eventually it wasn’t bread trampled by a horse, it was himself.

This is what he got for trying to survive. This is how he ended up.

It was what he deserved.

They were moving him, then, brutally forwards. He saw them open the door to the cell, saw the inside. It was dark - there wasn’t a window - with chains affixed to the walls and the door bolted with an enormous lock.

It was too much like where he had come from. Too much like the sanatorium. He couldn’t take it, he couldn’t go in there, he couldn’t be locked away again,  _ not again, not again _ \- 

He felt the fire blossom in his hand with familiar and almost comforting heat. The guard holding him yelped and dropped him, and he hit the ground roughly, but the movement didn’t disrupt the spell. He knew what he was capable of, knew what he could do. It had been so long, but it didn’t matter, he knew what he was doing.

He flung the flame wide, initially careening past the guard as another drew his sword but looked wary.

“Fucking  _ mages -  _ ” he heard one say, and he targeted the sound of the voice. He threw the fire towards it and it struck with a vengeance. He would get out of here, he would fight his way out, why hadn’t this been an option before? He was a pupil of the Cerberus Assembly, he was better than  _ all _ of them. He would make them pay for bringing him low, for treating him like this, for getting in the way of his  _ goals _ , and - 

The fire had grown exponentially, too fast, for suddenly the guard he had struck was screaming, horrible  _ awful _ screams, as her skin blackened, her hair singed away. He watched the skin began to melt and fuse as she fell to her knees, then dropped to the floor, her screaming cut eerily short as her body slumped forward, a shriveled husk with the stench of burning flesh, and she wasn’t there anymore, because she was inside the house, and the screaming was still going, echoing around Caleb, deafening him, he needed to get her  _ out _ , he needed to  _ stop this, stop this, stop, please, why did he ever -  _

He didn’t know where he was - part of him - was he ever  _ not _ there? - was trapped beside the blazing inferno, watching it burn, watching  _ them _ burn, watching them die, and it was him, it was all him, his fault,  _ I did this _ \- 

In the distance, almost as if it were happening to someone else entirely, he felt himself be dragged backwards, into the cell, but was there really a cell? Of course there was, it was everywhere, bearing down on him with such ferocity, but all he could see was the woman as she burned, burned,  _ burned _ .

Somebody had grabbed his hands, tugging them forward and pinning them ruthlessly down. He heard voices, far away, from another time entirely, mingling with the screams inside his own head:

“I’ve got it - ”

“Careful, he may - ”

“Fucking  _ mages -  _ ”

“This’ll stop him - ”

He managed, just barely, to catch a small glimpse of the hammer, raising and ready to be brought down onto his delicate fingers.

“N - no - ” he gasped, but the screams were still there, incessant. “N - no,  _ bitte _ ,  _ bitte - ” _

He struggled to no avail, and everything was too much. He couldn’t think, could barely breathe, and the screams would surely break him along with the hammer - 

Another scream, more like a shriek, ricocheted within Caleb’s mind, shocking him out of his stupor in time to see a hideous mess of tattered cloth and green skin grabbing the hand holding the hammer and biting hard enough for blood to fly, splattering across his coat. The guards collectively recoiled back, the one with the bloodied hand shaking it desperately in the hopes of detaching whatever thing was assailing it. They managed to collide the creature with the wall and it was enough to send it sprawling backwards, hissing and uttering obvious curses in some language Caleb did not know.

“Leave it, leave it!” a guard shouted, and someone slammed the door shut before the creature could move forward in time. It pounded tiny fists on the door, still cursing as it breathed heavily, panting in the sudden dark.

Caleb was back in reality now - he had to be, given the show - but his heart still pounded in fear as ghostly screams still echoed in his head. He peered up at the creature from his weak position on the floor as it turned towards him.

“Are you alright?” it said, in a voice that was high-pitched and slightly strained. Caleb could barely see it in the dark, and his vision was impaired further by the bandages covering its face and arms, but its wide yellow eyes were hard to miss, as was the mouth of glittering teeth that was currently drawn into a concerned grimace.

_ A goblin _ .

It took a step towards him, hands outstretched, and Caleb panicked. He pushed himself backwards frantically, hands pawing at the cold stone floor, until, too soon, he hit an unforgiving wall. The goblin was still where it was, unmoving, simply observing him from afar.

“ _ Verlasse mich,” _ he gasped, instinct taking his language before he realized that it might not understand Zemnian.

“Leave me,” he pleaded. “Don’t come any closer.”

He didn’t know what he could do if it  _ did _ \- his fire had backfired massively, and he didn’t want to risk becoming catatonic at the mercy of this thing. But it - was it an  _ it?  _ There was long hair, falling out of a braid, a slender figure that could be considered feminine, he supposed. But it didn’t matter. It -  _ she _ \- could hurt him.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly. She shifted from foot to foot, almost nervously. “Those bastards were going to destroy your hands. Keep you from casting spells.”

Caleb, who was still breathing heavily, nodded.

“ _ Ja _ ,” he managed, not knowing what to say.

“Well I - I stopped them.” She said the words almost proudly, but Caleb knew where they led. Down a rabbit hole of debts and favors, of oaths that when broken would hurt him far more than a little hammer would.

“ _ Leave me,” _ he pleaded again.

She bit at her lip, an accomplishment given the size of her teeth, and nodded in response. She retreated to the opposite corner of the jail cell, which wasn’t that big, but Caleb appreciated the space she was giving him.

It gave him ample room to be swallowed by his demons.

“I’ll stop them if they try again,” she whispered harshly as she settled in.

He didn’t know why she would. He deserved nothing less anyway. Why had she stopped them from taking away his only method of hurt, of power over others, of misery? For that’s all that came out of his flames. Anguish and fear.

Death.

He pulled his coat tightly around him, and tried to sleep.

*********

He was keenly aware of the passage of time. That’s what made his time in that prison cell so miserable. He could count every second of every minute of every hour that faded in and out of his consciousness, and it was driving him insane.

Well. More insane than he’d been before.

He wanted to drift alone in time. Wanted to forget how to exist. He deserved to be in here. He deserved all of it, even the hammer that would break his hands, because who was he fooling? Grand aspirations of manipulating time, bending reality, bringing down entire governments anchored on an Assembly of horrors. He was  _ nothing _ in the grand scheme of those plans.  _ Miniscule _ and  _ tiny _ , and what had he shown for it? He had been caught stealing  _ food _ , like a fucking beggar, and in doing so had murdered yet another person. Add it to his list, his fucking list of people he’d killed, all in the name of some stupid unworthy cause.

Another hour slipped by, and he couldn’t sleep. Every time his mind would cross into the realm of dreams, they would turn into horrific nightmares that would wake him before he even settled down. He realized he hadn’t slept properly in several days, if not weeks. The world around him was dark, dismal. The cell smelled like metallic iron and mildew.

A day went by without contact from the guards, save the small tray of food they slipped underneath the door. The goblin darted forward and snatched up whatever gruel was in the bowl. There was a small chunk of stale bread that Caleb spotted from afar, and he felt his stomach churn, but he made no movement to take it, so after a moment’s consideration the goblin took it all and retreated back to her corner.

Two days. A week.

Three days in, he began to hallucinate. He blamed the lack of food, but who was he to even dare try and survive anymore?

He saw Astrid and Eodwulf, friendly smiles and eager eyes as they learned another lesson. He saw Ikithon nod in approval as he drove another crystal further into Bren’s arm. He felt energy crackle in his hands, saw it light up the room, but everything was still so, so dark.

He saw his parents, smiling at him. Bren, their shining joy, how  _ proud _ they were. How truly gracious they were, that their boy would become such a strong and talented mage. How  _ happy _ they were as he turned his magic on them, how proud his father looked as he burned alive, how endearing his mother sounded as she screamed.

Though it barely registered in Caleb’s distant dissociating mind, he was aware of a voice, gentle and very much real. He found himself curled into a ball in his tiny corner, his knees drawn up tightly to his chest, his arms wrapped around them so they acted as a shield against his own mind.

“ - know you might not hear me,” the voice was saying. “But I figured I’d offer you some food, I haven’t seen you eat  _ anything _ , and I didn’t know if - ”

He stirred, lifting his head just enough so that his eyes peeked out over his arms. The goblin was there, next to him, but he didn’t have the energy within him anymore to try and move away. Besides, she didn’t look aggressive. In fact, she was holding up a collection of bread pieces, which he realized were all salvaged from the various meals he had been neglecting.

“So you  _ can _ hear me,” she said, curious.

Dully, Caleb nodded.

“I saved these for you.” She presented the bread. Caleb hesitated, still perfectly willing to hunker down into himself, but something in her wide eyes made him extend a hand and take a piece of bread. She watched silently as he examined it, then brought it slowly to his lips.

It tasted of nothing, simple wheat and water, but somehow it was the most delicious thing Caleb had had in his whole life.

He found himself taking another, and another, and the goblin had to stop him before taking a fourth.

“You’re going to make yourself sick,” she chided, pulling backwards. “ _ Slowly. _ ”

“Sorry,” he mumbled, swallowing the remnants of the bread in his mouth. He stared at the goblin as she counted out the remaining bread.

“Why are you helping me?” he whispered. He felt like such a fool for asking, but he needed to know.

She looked up at him with those wide eyes. They were yellow, with thin pupils, and now that he was closer he saw that her hair, though matted, was indeed pulled into a hasty braid, as if she actually cared about her appearance. A normal goblin wouldn’t do such a thing. Then again, a normal goblin wouldn’t have done  _ anything _ she had done.

“It’s not right, the way they were treating you.” She handed him another piece. “Those bastards are already horrible when it comes to thieves. They don’t stop to think about  _ why _ we’re stealing. We just wanted food.”

Caleb let out a soft hollow laugh and raised the bread.

“Well,” he said. “Now we are getting fed and we have a roof over our heads. What better fate than that?”

The goblin shook her head.

“I know you know that’s not true.”

“You don’t know anything about me,” Caleb spat.

“I know you’re running from something,” the goblin countered. “And I know you have plans. Big plans.”

Caleb narrowed his eyes.

“You talk to yourself a lot,” the goblin explained. “Besides, I don’t know how long you’ve been here - ”

“A week and four days,” Caleb offered bitterly.

The goblin stared at him before continuing.

“ - but you’ve just been starving yourself and muttering and you have  _ nightmares _ and - ”

“You seem to know an awful lot about me,  _ mein freund _ ,” Caleb said, putting as much threatening tone into his voice as he could. The goblin blanched and backed up a hair, but she stubbornly stayed close by.

“I - I just think both of us would be better off away from here, don’t you think?”

A sad scoff escaped Caleb’s lips.

“How do you know I wasn’t like this before I came here, hm?”

The goblin tilted her head and examined him closely.

“I don’t. But I’d like to see it for myself.”

Caleb didn’t understand this creature, but she had given him food, and wasn’t afraid of him, so she was already leagues ahead of most people he knew.

“What did you have in mind?”

A grin spread across her face.

“You’re a mage, yeah? How good are you?”

Caleb forced in a breath as visions of a prideful Ikithon tried to drown his thoughts.

“I am alright,” he answered woodenly.

“Okay, good. Can you make a distraction?”

“Are you trying to cause a jailbreak, little one?”

“Nott.”

“I’m sorry?”

“My name. It’s Nott. And yours is?”

His real name was behind him forever.

“Caleb,” he said firmly. “Caleb Widogast.”

“Okay then, Caleb Widogast. Can you cause a distraction?”

“ _ Ja. _ ”

Looking back on it, three hours later, while they were running away, out of the town, into the woods nearby, as they collapsed against a tree, panting heavily - he didn’t know why he had trusted her. At any given point she could have betrayed him.

But then again, so could he.

They stared at each other as they heaved in breaths, Nott grinning ear to long green ear, and Caleb realized that he was back where he started. Wandering around, by himself, with nothing but a stupid power fantasy fueling his movements.

But he wasn’t by himself.

“Hey,” he asked Nott once they had both recovered their voices. “You are quite a useful rogue.”

“And you are quite a useful wizard,” she replied with a smirk.

“I - I think perhaps staying together would be...advantageous for us,  _ ja? _ ”

That’s how it started. A simple nod from Nott. Declaring practicality as the motive.

But he knew. He knew as they walked further into the woods.

They decided to camp underneath a tall tree that Nott scurried up to scout out the area. Finding it clear, Caleb started a fire. They didn’t have much in the way of food, but they knew they would find some later.

“I - I would like to thank you,” he said finally, after the sun had fully set. “I do believe you have rescued me,  _ mein freund. _ ”

“And you, me,” Nott answered, yawning. “I - I’m glad I could get you out of there.”

“ _ Ja _ , no one enjoys being locked up in a cell for over a week.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

Caleb glanced up at Nott, who was looking at him with a peculiar expression that made him squirm slightly under her scrutiny.

“I’m not one to dig into people’s pasts,” she began.

“ _ Good _ ,” Caleb pressed, wary of where this was going.

“But I won’t lie and say that I didn’t see you were struggling with things in there.”

“Does it matter?” Caleb said forcefully.

“No. I suppose it doesn’t. And you don’t have to tell me anything. Just know that I - I can help. If you’d like.”

It was a strange feeling, having this little goblin girl promise help to him, without her knowing anything about him. If she knew, she wouldn’t be sticking around. Nobody in their right minds would. But for now, with a veil of secrecy thrown over himself, he would be willing to offer the visible portions. Not Bren, but  _ Caleb _ .

“ _ Ja _ . I would like that.”

Nott got up from her seat and moved closer to Caleb, so that she was situated next to him. She wasn’t close enough to touch, and yet somehow, somewhere in the back of his brain, he wanted nothing more but to hug her.

He supposed he would get his chance soon.


End file.
